Haunted
by peaceloveanddeath
Summary: 17 year old Carl Grimes has witnessed his father's death. He is haunted with nightmares from that night and suffers from narcolepsy. Ever since that night, he hasn't been the same, and the people in the prison have noticed. He is afraid he is suffering from mental issues and has a rough time communicating with people. But going on a run with Daryl and Michonne changes his life.
1. Chapter 1

_"Carl!" I heard my dad yell. I spun around to see him overtaken with walkers. "No, Dad!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I ran at the hoard with my gun and machete. "Mochonne!" I yelled, seeing her distracted on the other side of the field. She would never get here in time. I chopped off heads with my right hand at shot at heads with my left. No matter how many I killed, there was the same amount on top of my dad. I couldn't get to him, until-_

_All was still. There my dad laid, a walker. He slowly got up, looked me in the eyes, and attacked._

I shot up, gasping for breath. I was in my cot in the prison, not back in that field. I lay back down, still sweating and shaking over my recurring nightmare. I've become narcoleptic since that night. That night that Rick Grimes died.

There weren't many of us left. Most died, some have come and gone. It's been three months since Glenn took over as leader, since Dad died. I was his second in command now. He and Maggie had a baby, a boy named William Herschel, named after their dads. He was almost one. Judith was almost four now and could talk. Beth still took care of her, and was her mom for all she knew. Beth. I didn't know what was going on between us. She was nearly twenty. I didn't understand girls. She would pay attention to me, maybe kiss me, then ignore me and pretend like nothing ever happened. That's been going on since I was sixteen. At least I could talk to Daryl, whenever he was here. I feel like the same thing was going on between him and Michonne, but neither of them say anything about it. Michonne still brings me comic books when she finds them. But Daryl can usually find me the _good _magazines.

I've been reading Herschel's old classic books collection recently. I was almost done with them too, which made me sad. I figured that all we have left of the Old World is left in pictures and literature. And the only picture I have left that is important to me is the one of my whole family when I was little. As much as I was annoyed by my parents, I miss them both. I was there when both of them died. It was my fault that they both died. I think about that a lot.

I laid there and stared at the bunk above me. Thinking, as usual. I was living in the apocalypse. I was living in an abandoned prison. Both my parents were dead. I didn't know how much longer I would survive, how long any of us would survive. My name is Carl Grimes. Today is my seventeenth birthday.


	2. Chapter 2

I tried to sleep those few extra hours, but, as usual, I couldn't keep my eyes closed for more than a few seconds. Around 4 am, I got up, put on my hat and holster, and walked outside to find Glenn. Might as well let him sleep if I couldn't.

Glenn was leaning against the metal bars of the watchtower, glaring at the few walkers out in the field. "Hey, Glenn," I mumbled in my deep voice. Glenn turned around and greeted me. I leaned against the railing next to him.

"Couldn't sleep?" Glenn asked. I shook my head, "When can I ever sleep?" Glenn gave a snort laugh. The only laughing you ever heard now.

"I'll keep watch, Glenn. Go sleep," I told him, laying my rifle on the railing in front of me. "You sure?" he asked, his eyebrows arcing over his bloodshot eyes. I nodded. "Thanks, man," he said, patting me on the back.

The sun was starting to rise. I squinted into the distance, not sure how long I would be up here. Most of the time when I kept watch, I was lost in thought. That's all I did now. Think. Think about what I would be like if the walkers never existed. If Mom hadn't died. If Dad hadn't died. If Sophia was still alive. If Judith didn't exist. If Mom had died on that first walker attack at our house, where would I be? Probably dead, I decided. If I had died, where would Mom and Dad be?

Sometimes I would think so much I would cry. Fuck. I wiped a tear from my eye. There was a point in my life where I've been so jaded by the apocalypse that I had no tears left. Then Dad died. Now I cry myself to sleep, when I can sleep. I'm weak, I know I am.

I've changed. I can see it , everyone else can see it. I don't talk as much as I used to. When I wasn't on watch or on a run, I would either be taking care of Judith or reading or farming. Things are quiet here. I don't think we'll ever leave the prison.

The sun was up. It must've been about 8 a.m. I could see Maggie walking out to the tower carrying a plate. Breakfast. I opened the door for her when she reached the tower. She handed me the plate of a slice of bread, applesauce and a carrot.

"Thanks," I mumbled. I bit into the carrot and continued looking at the field. No threat.

Maggie was looking up at me. "Are you alright, Carl?" I nodded. "Fine, Maggie. Fine as I can be, anyway," I answered, taking another bite of the carrot. She shrugged. "When you come down from watch, I'm giving you a haircut."

She patted me on the shoulder and I spun to watch her leave. I sighed. My hair was as long as Daryl's now. Maggie was, ironically, the mother of the group now. What she said goes and there was nothing I could do about it.

Maggie gave us all haircuts every few months. I've been managing to avoid her glaring eye for a while now. But she finally caught me. I remember when she didn't care, when she only cared about Glenn. Now that Lori and Carol were gone, it was her role to take care of everyone's basic needs. No one asked her to, she put it on herself. Of course she did.

I remember when I used to crush on her from afar. I mean, she was Glenn's. She's known me since I was twelve. She was there with me when Judith was born. We've gone through some things together on runs. But she's become my mom. I love her like that. She and Glenn are doing the best they can.

Two hours later, Mishonne came waltzing up from the prison to the tower to take my place. She was equipped with her samurai sword, which she always had with her. Lots of help that does on the tower.

"Hey," I said to her when she came on the landing. "Go sleep, little man," she said to me, taking my hat and putting it on herself. I was taller than her now, but I still let her swipe it off my head. I handed the rifle to her and took back my hat. "I left a gift on your cot, by the way," she said to me as I went to the door. I turned to look at her, but she was looking at the field. I nodded, even though she couldn't see me, then left.

No one knew it was my birthday. No one here kept time like I did. I was probably wrong, since no one really cared what the time of day or the month or anything was. But I kept my own calendar that I guess the days were. I assumed that today was March 7, 2017. My seventeenth birthday.

I looked down at my cot and laughed. Mishonne found me an Aquaman comic. My least favorite superhero, she knows that, but she does have a sense of humor. This was probably a random gift-giving, there's no way she could've known that I think it's my seventeenth birthday.

Thanks, Mishonne.

I laid on my cot and started reading it. God, it sucked. But I smiled.

There was an urgent rap on cot's riling, shaking the whole frame, making me jump. Beth stood there, holding Judith, giving me an angry glare.

"Yes?" I asked nonchalantly. "Carl!" she yelled at a register that hurt both mine and Judith's ears. I sat up and asked what. "Carl! I need you to watch Judith _right now!_ I can't be doing everything by myself…"

She continued on with her blabbering that I've learned to tune out. I got up and picked up Judith, who smiled and hugged my neck. She was nearly five and very smart. She was a lot like me, I could tell. She never cried or complained and was very smart. I've been reading to her.

Beth was still angrily yelling at me. See what I mean? She's never pleased and I can never tell when she wants something. I sat Judith next to me on my bed and showed her the Aquaman comic that I had started. Beth finally huffed and left my room.

Judith looked up at me. "Carl, why is she always mad?" She was talking about Beth. I looked at the doorway to make sure she was gone. "I don't know, Judy. It's just hard to live here for her I guess."

"Why?" she asked. Oh yeah. This is the only home she's ever known. She doesn't know about the walkers or about the Old World. She's been living in this old prison her whole life with people that aren't really related to her. Besides me. And Dad. I still think that Shane is really her dad. She has dark features like him but has our blue eyes. I guess we'll never know.

"Because she's not used to it, I guess," I said to her, pointing at the picture of Aquaman. She giggled, "He looks funny!" I smiled, "Yeah, he does." We spent an hour just pointing and making fun of the comic. If only life was still that easy.

"No, really Maggie, I don't need a haircut," I pleaded with her as I was forced into a metal chair, a towel being place around my neck. "No arguing, sonny, you look like a ragamuffin," she said in her southern accent.

"We're in the apocalypse, it doesn't matter," I said to her, giving up on arguing. "I know you're trying to look all cool like Daryl, but it looks ridiculous. Don't worry, I'll make you look cool." She just laughed, I rolled my eyes. I would never win against her.

Twenty minutes later and layers of hair gone, she finished. She handed me a rusty hand held mirror to look at her handiwork. I would never admit it, but it actually looked good. My black hair was still swished to the side, but at a considerable length, not like Daryl's.

"It brings out your eyes, Carl. Oh look, you have freckles!" she pat my shoulder and took the towel off my shoulders. "Let's go eat."


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl found me keeping watch that evening after dinner. "Hey, kiddo. Want to go on a run with me and Mishonne tomorrow?" I looked at him. I've only gone on one other run since Dad died, and that was just to shoot down a deer for food.

"Sure," I said to him, "Why?"

"Mishonne said that she found another town that might have people, medicine, food. We're going to go check it out. Might as well have three people. We'll leave early tomorrow, I'll wake you up," he pat me on the back and left. That's all people ever did now. Pat me on the back. You're doing a good job, kid. Little man. Son. Kiddo. Bastard, as Beth calls me. I'm not a kid anymore. I kill just as much as the rest that run this prison. And I'm taller than everyone now.

My thoughts were interrupted with Daryl yelling up to me, "Oh, and nice haircut!" I could hear him snicker as he walked away. "Fuck you, Daryl," I yelled at him. We both laughed. I guess that summed up our relationship.

Yet again, I woke up in result of a nightmare. I was breathing hard. I guess I was worried about the run today. What if I got Mishonne or Daryl killed? Like I got Dad killed? I shook my head, sitting up and put my head in my hands. _You better not fucking cry, Carl, _I told myself over and over. I couldn't trust myself anymore. I killed a man when I was twelve years old. Twelve! I said he was coming at me, but I wasn't sure. I just killed him in cold blood. I've killed countless walkers. But what did they matter?

I was shaking. There was something wrong with me. The more I told myself to not cry, the more upset I got, resulting in more crying and more telling myself to not cry. It was an endless depressing cycle. I wanted to scream, but if I did I would wake everyone up, scare everyone with the threat of a walker. And then they would see how weak I really was. I can't let that happen. I hit my forehead and slammed myself back down on my cot, closing my eyes tightly. _Maybe it'll all go away, everything, _ I thought. I thought about killing myself. _Carl? _No, I've never given that serious thought. But how can I live like this? It's been five, no, six years in this hell. I don't want to live like this only to be killed by a walker! Or, more likely, some nut case with a gun.

Think of all you've done for these people, Carl. You can't leave Judith with Beth! You need to help Glenn. Maggie. William. Daryl. Mishonne. Was that all that was left of us? I never thought about it. If I killed myself, there would only be seven people left, only four that could actually fend for themselves. I repeated _You're worth living, Carl, _to myself until I finally fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

As promised, Daryl woke me up maybe two hours later to go on the run. I groaned as I pulled myself out of the bed and took the cup of water he handed me. I drank a little from it and poured the rest on my face. Wake up, Carl. For once I had actually gotten into a deep sleep. Now I'm off searching for something Mishonne might've found. But it's whatever. I put on my jeans and flannel over my t-shirt, Dad's holster with his gun and two knives. I helped Daryl pack extra supplies into the car, then went to eat breakfast. I saw Glenn keeping watch on the tower. We didn't have enough people. We needed more people to keep everything running normally. Maggie had three plates of bread set out for the three of us, with three bottles of water. We ate quickly, thanked her, and left. I would've said goodbye to Judith, but I didn't want to wake her up. I sat in the back seat, watching the trees fly past us out the window. No one spoke for the first ten minutes on the road. I finally piped up and said, "I really miss listening to music." Daryl and Mishonne just looked at each other, concerned maybe. "What?" I asked them. "Nothin.' It's just that… you've been real… nostalgic… lately. Are you depressed, Carl?" Daryl answered. I just gave them a disgusted look. "What!? No, I'm fine guys. I don't know what you're talking about. And the fuck, Daryl? Both of y'all. You guys aren't exactly the touchy-feely kind of people." Mishonne said something but I'll I could think about was if they of all people could see how much I've changed over these months, no, years, then what did the others see? "Well, there were some CDs in this car when we took it, see what they are," Daryl said to Mishonne, pointing at the glove box. She opened it to see three country albums. "Fuck," Mishonne and I mumbled at the same time, as I peered over her shoulder to see what they were. We both hated country music. Daryl, however, could not be happier. "Hells, yeah. Kenny Chesney! Put that bitch in the CD player!" Mishonne reluctantly did so. Might as well, seeing as the only music we hear nowadays is Beth singing her campfire songs. They used to be bonding. Now they're just annoying as hell. Maybe I won't hate country music as much as I remembered. Maybe my heart will change because of lack of music in five or so years. The CD played. I plugged my ears the rest of the trip. As did Mishonne. Daryl sang along to every song, which was almost as bad as the actual song. Mishonne slowly turned around in her seat to glare at me. This was my fault, we all knew it. And she hated me for it. I hated me for it. We couldn't stop Daryl now. We sat in agony for another hour. 


	5. Chapter 5

"This is it," Mishonne said, interrupting Daryl from his…beautiful singing. We pulled into a small town square, what used to look like a quaint place to live. Now, of course, it's completely destroyed.

We circled around a broken and algae-ridden fountain, looking at the old buildings. A barber shop, grocer, law offices just to name a few. All with broken windows, graffiti and dead bodies. Weeds growing up between the cracked sidewalk, destroyed cars, dried blood. The usual. There was a tattered flag hanging on a flagpole on one of the buildings. I had one in my room that a stole from a town not unlike this one. It looked cool but reminded me of what state our country was in. If that flag even means anything anymore. This isn't a country anymore. This isn't even a world anymore. This is just a land that we're trying to survive on.

Daryl pulled in front of the small grocery store. There probably wouldn't be anything in here, but might as well check.

"Remember, baby things and meds," Daryl said, pulling out his crossbow. Mishonne and I followed him into the store. As usual, Daryl walked in first with his crossbow, walking down the middle aisle, Michonne following, going right, then me, going left.

There were only 6 stock shelves in the tiny grocery store, not that it mattered since there was barely anything left. Things were covered in dust, scattered everywhere, one shelf was lying on its side, glass broken everywhere, the usual. It's gotten to the point where most places we go, it's so deserted that there aren't even walkers there.

"It's clear," Daryl said when we all found each other again at the back of the store. We split up again to look for stuff. I went into the storage behind the refrigerated sections. There was a cart of old milk. Really old milk, from when the apocalypse was just starting. It was green and way more curdled than anything I'd ever seen before. I sighed. I missed milk. I never really liked it when I had it, but now, what I wouldn't give for a bowl of milk and cereal.

_Fuck_. I do that a lot. Think about the Old World. I used to not even think about a time before the apocalypse. I faced the fact that it was impossible to go back and there was no point in living in the past. But I've become so fucking nostalgic, it's weak. Judith will never know what milk tastes like. She doesn't know that there's more than just vegetables, old bread and canned foods in this world. what happens when we run out of food for good? The bread and canned food won't last forever, and who knows if we will still be able to grow our own food? And the animals will die out eventually, just like we will.

I picked up a can of sweet potatoes off the ground. One thing. Great. I was scared about Judith and William. I'm assuming that they will be together in the future, if we are still alive. They are probably the only young children in the world now. That sounds sad, but I'm willing to bet on it. I'm not sure if we're trying to repopulate the earth or what, but I'm sure Glenn and Maggie had that idea. I'm honestly shocked that Maggie went through with it, what with having to cut Judith out of my mom and being there when she died. Maggie's tough, a lot tougher than me. She does what she has to. And I'm sure she wants Beth and me to be together. I don't know. Even if I wanted to just, like, sleep with her for the purpose of repopulating the earth, Beth would never go for it. I know that Daryl has slept with Mishonne, but I can never see Mishonne being pregnant. I remember her telling me that she had a son before the apocalypse. Andre. Poor Mishonne. She's the most badass woman, in my opinion. She's been through so much, much more than I have. I've talked to her about it, which was hard since at that time neither of us would talk about our feelings. Not that we do now. She and Daryl are my best friends. Not that I see them all that much anymore. They're always together and I'm always avoiding everyone. Not on purpose, it just happens.

I found a can of green beans. Fuck, there's a hole in it. Dried green beans. I drop the can on the floor and keep roaming. I used to keep a journal. Kinda. The pages are all filled up, I started writing over things I had already written. And draw. But I'm out of paper. And pens. I was hoping to find something on this run. Probably not though.

"Is there a pharmacy here or something?" Daryl asked Mishonne. She just shrugged. We showed our collection. I found a can of sweet potatoes. Daryl found a few cans of mixed fruit. Mishonne found an owl statue. We all laughed at it, then sighed. This was so far unsuccessful.

"C'mon, they'll have more stuff in this town," Daryl said, leading us out.


	6. Chapter 6

We followed him into the town square again, looking for anything that might have supplies. We poked our heads in some of the smaller shops, but it was no use. Completely destroyed.

"I thought you said this town would have supplies," I asked Mishonne. She shrugged. "I passed through it on a run last week. I said it MIGHT have supplies and worth checking out. I guess I was wrong," she said angrily.

Shit, now she was mad at me. I didn't mean anything mean...

"Y'all, what 'bout that building?" Daryl asked us, pointing at what looked like a three story small factory. There was graffiti about death written on the front, with all the windows on the first story broken. We betted a yes on it. Daryl, of course, went in first, crossbow armed and ready, followed by Mishonne and me.

It was a warehouse, I can tell you that. It looked as if someone used those wooden flats they use for shipping things as a barrier around a set of stairs. Maybe someone was here. There was basically nothing but shrapnel on the first floor, so we made our way up to the second. Nothing. It was literally a huge empty room, with one office. I guess it had tables and machines in here at one time, but I assumed that this business was closed down before the apocalypse. The only way left was up.

We climbed the metal stair case to what was probably the main offices for this business at one time. It was... Clean. Not broken, not dusty. There was someone living here, I could feel it.

Of course, this is the most dangerous part. More dangerous than walkers are people. People are unpredictable, will fire at will in this time, not even ask questions. Especially if you have something they want, like supplies.

The three of us separated and scoped out the setting. Separate, walled offices with old computers, like they were already old before the apocalypse. Most of the offices had been ransacked looking for supplies, then left that way, judging by the thick layer of dust. But the last office was the one. The last office had the desk by the wall, I assumed it was to push in front of the door. It had boxes of ammo and food stored in a corner with sleeping bags and flashlights in another corner. Someone was living in this office, more than one person, I bet. I smiled. We're safe for now.

I poked my head out of the office, "Mishonne, Daryl, look what I found," they came to my office and smiled.

"They're probably on a run, huh?" Mishonne asked, picking up two boxes of ammo and putting them in her backpack.

"Probably," Daryl answered, picking up canned foods. I just watched them. Vultures. That's all we were now, weren't we?

"You're not taking them all, are you?" I asked them.

They just looked at each other, "Of course not. We'll leave some of their UNGUARDED supplies," Daryl said sarcastically. I knew what that meant. He would leave a comedic amount of things left, meaning maybe two cans of food and a few bullets. And a badly written note. No point in stopping them now.

I helped by putting some cans and boxes of bullets in my backpack. I admit it - this was a jackpot. They were probably the ones who took everything from the grocery store.

"Check that drawer," Mishonne motions to me, pointing at the metal desk by the wall. I turned and opened them. Motrin. Advil. Tylenol. Painkillers! Now THIS was the jackpot.

"Guys, I found drugs!" I said happily. They walked over and looked in, smiling. "Well done," said Daryl, patting me on the back and taking some bottles. We left one bottle in the drawer for the original owners, raiding all the drawers. That was it.

We looked around the office one more time. We took all we could take, backpacks heavy with supplies. This was successful.

"Um, guys, look," Mishonne said, looking out the window. Daryl and I looked out. Walkers. A really big group of walkers heading towards the entrance of the building. Shit.

We ran down to the first floor, looking for a back door. Then we heard a scream. We all froze and looked at each other. We tiptoed to a window to look at the hoard of walkers. At the end of the group, we saw people. People! They must've been taken by surprise coming back to their home, I'm assuming. I'm assuming that these are the people who lived here.

I squinted towards the back of the hoard of walkers to make out who we were sizing up. A man with thinning hair, probably early 50's. A tall girl with light brown hair cut short. College aged, I think. The third was slightly shorter than the other girl. She had dark brown hair in a messy ponytail. Looked about my age. She swung an axe down into the head of a walker, breathing heavily as she pulled her axe out and smashed the back of it into the side of a head of a walker. Wow. I'm not sure what's going on. I felt a tightness in my stomach. My brain just went a little fuzzy. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, looking back out through the windows. Oh yeah, walkers.

I looked over at Daryl, "We're helping them," I stated. Daryl nodded, opening the big doors, Mishonne and I standing back, waiting for them to come in. I pulled out my machete, Mishonne pulled out her sword. The walkers came pouring in. I swung my machete this way and that, cutting off heads here and there. Mishonne was faster than me, killed almost twice the walkers I had. We made this a competition sometimes. Made it more fun.

Daryl was using his crossbow, shooting and stabbing and hitting walkers. I've seen him punch a walker before, that's how badass Daryl is.

The walkers were lessening; we had to get out of the building. We stepped over bodies as more walkers came at us. Daryl was already outside. There were only 10 walkers between the door and me. I slashed and ran and kicked walkers. I was proud of myself. I hadn't used my gun this entire endeavor.

"Go!" Mishonne yelled at me, "I'll get the rest in here!" I nodded to her and ran around the ones coming in, jumping through the broken window. I felt like a badass but at the same time felt guilty for leaving her in there. But I know that she can take care of herself.

I saw Daryl on the opposite side of the group of about 30 walkers. I started taking out my side. I could see the three strangers. I could see the girl with the axe. I looked at the walkers coming at me, doing the math: if we each killed 6 walkers, that would kill them all. Approximately.

I swung my machete. One. Two.

Spin. Three.

Lunge. Four.

Back up. Five.

Run. Six.

I looked around. Considerably less. Daryl was running towards the three. They were still surrounded. The girl with the axe killed a walker in front of her. But there was one right behind her! No-

There was a gunshot. The walker behind her fell. There were no more walkers. I looked at my left hand. There was my gun. When did that happen? I felt it. It was hot. Did I not realize I fired it?

The girl with the axe looked at me. I couldn't tell what she was thinking.

Mishonne ran out if the building, "Who fired a fucking gun!? We have to leave, NOW!"

Daryl was yelling at the group of three to come with us, that we had a car. They began arguing but were persuaded when more walkers came out of the woods. I ran to Mishonne, who threw me my backpack. We raced to the car, Daryl with the keys. He opened the trunk, we threw our gear in it, and, within seconds, had all six people in the car. Daryl and Mishonne in the front, me and the newbies in the back. We sped away from the tiny town, country music playing lightly in the background. Daryl didn't sing along this time.


	7. Chapter 7

We were driving for a few minutes before Mishonne punched the off button for the music angrily, turning around in her seat to look at the four of us. I was sitting between the left passenger door and the older man. We glanced at each other, making eye contact, then looked back at Mishonne. If things weren't so awkward, it would've been comical.

"Listen, we're going back to our camp. Were you three living in that warehouse?" she asked them.

The two girls nodded but the old man answered her, "Yes."

"How long have the three of you known each other?"

"Well these two girls are cousins, but I met them in our old camp. So a few months."

"What happened to your old camp?"

"We got separated during an attack."

"Walkers?"

"Yes."

"So it's just been the three of you together for a few months?"

"No. We had another man with us, but he was killed by walkers two weeks ago."

There was silence.

"Why have you guys stayed together for so long?"

"There's power in numbers."

"How many in your old camp?"

"Started with nine, I believe, had eighteen the day of the attack. We don't know if anyone else survived."

"Where were you located?"

"We set up camp in the woods south of the Tennessee border. We've made our way closer to Atlanta over the last few months, hoping to find our people. Or any people."

There was a pause. Mishonne made eye contact with Daryl. They said nothing but I knew that they were making a decision.

"What's your name?" Mishonne finally asked.

"Mark. This is Shawna," he said pointing to the older girl, "and Jessie," he said pointing to the girl with the axe.

Jessie. She was still holding her axe on her lap, bloody and sweaty. She just stared at Mishonne with no expression.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Mishonne asked them. Oh no. The Rick Questions.

Mark just raised an eyebrow, "Countless."

"How many people have you killed?"

There was a silence.

Mark raised his eyebrow, not saying anything.

For the first time, Jessie spoke, "One. My sister. She was bitten."

Mishonne nodded. Shawna answered that she hadn't killed anyone. Mark answered the same. For some reason, I didn't believe him. From what I could tell about Mark, he seemed like one of those dads that wore touristy-looking flower-patterned short sleeved button-ups with khaki shorts with lots of pockets, sunglasses and a baseball cap, with the classic white calf socks and old tennis shoes. You know the type. Really annoying and always talked on the phone during their kids' little league games. He seemed like a guy who would complain about his hot dog not having enough chili at a baseball game. You could tell that he had drastically lost a lot of weight since the start of the Apocalypse. He's the guy who you wouldn't think would make it, yet here he is, with a gun and a heavy knife.

I looked past him at Shawna. _What about her, Carl? What can you tell about her? _Hmm. She looked how Maggie looked a few years ago. Scared. This isn't what she's used to. She looked fairly young, but much older than me. She was probably a college student when this whole thing started. Probably on the richer side of the fiscal food chain. Not that it mattered now. She had clearly become strong, adapted to her surroundings. There was something else there, something about her that I just couldn't pick up. Something in her eyes, something she missed? I would figure it out soon enough.

I was saving Jessie for last. I liked psychoanalyzing people. I didn't get to do it too often, it's not like we meet people every day. I used to do it to the people in the prison, but it's gotten boring.

I looked at her facial features. The high cheekbones, the cracked lips, her gray-blue eyes. She wasn't scared. She was… sizing us up. That was it. She was hiding. The blank stare kept us from seeing what she thought. It was her camouflage. She was hiding in this group of three, hoping that we would go for the other two, giving her time to hide. But she cracked. She cracked when she mentioned her sister. She was nostalgic, she missed the Old World, even if it was just her sister she missed. Her knuckles were white, gripping the axe. It looked like a fireman's axe. Maybe her father's? A possibility that it belonged to someone she knew? She was nervous, holding onto the axe for dear life. She would never kill the driver, her answered proved that she was not a sociopath. She was scared now. She knew that we had seen past her camouflage. He knees were pressed together; she was trying to make herself small, still trying to hide. Introverted. I see it now. She's been in this mess since she was my age. This apocalypse has hardened her too.

Just then, she looked up at me. We made eye contact for a split second. I turned my head to look out the window, but I knew that she had seen me. I rested my head on my hand to watch the trees go by, hopefully I would stop blushing.

"…and this is Carl," I heard Mishonne's voice. I jumped at my name. Was she still talking to them? Was she _introducing us? _ I guarantee that she didn't say her own name, just mine and Daryl's. She'll never tell you her own name, you have to figure it out.

I nodded to the three on my right. Mark and Shawna nodded back, Jessie just stared at me. I didn't risk making eye contact with her again. I leaned back in my seat, pulling my hat down on my forehead. I wasn't covering my eyes, I was shielding them from the sun. That was my excuse. I hoped that Mishonne wouldn't make me say anything. But this is the most speaking I've heard from her in ages.

There was only a few miles left until we would reach the prison. Mishonne reluctantly put on the country music to keep us all quiet. I rolled my eyes, looking towards Jessie. On accident. Her nose scrunched up, as if she was smelling something awful. I smirked to myself. She hated country music too.


	8. Chapter 8

Daryl drove the car through the gates, Glenn rushing to open them for us. There was a total of one walker threatening to come inside the gates. Mishonne waltzed out of the car and pulled out her samurai sword. She was just showing off, walking around the walker. Circling it, confusing it. She finally swiped off its head with her sword and ran inside the gate before Glenn closed it again. I just rolled my eyes and laughed along with Daryl. We left her to walk up to the prison alone, speeding up the dirt in the car.

Glenn left his post as guard to come and see what we brought. Jesus, they'll be surprised.

Daryl and I got out of the car first. Glenn came running up to where we were parked, leaving Mishonne to leisurely stroll up to the prison.

"How'd it go?" Glenn asked excitedly. "Oh, yeah, we got some supplies," Daryl said, opening the door to reveal Mark. Glenn went from excited to surprised to confused to slightly angry.

"What the fuck, Daryl?" Glenn asked, not sure of what to say. Mark, Shawna and Jessie climbed out of the car to stand in front of him.

"Can we keep them?" Daryl asked sarcastically. Glenn just hung his head. He was the sight of a man who needed sleep. "Whatever. Your call, Daryl."

"Hey, before you leave, Glenn, at least look at the supplies," I said to him, unzipping my backpack. Glenn's face lit up again, seeing the ammo, food and meds.

Mark and Shawna's faces, however, did not. "Wait, did you steal that from us?" Mark asked, angry.

"You left supplies unguarded, yes we stole them," Daryl said, defensively, "which turned out to be a good thing, because we saved your asses and brought you and the supplies back here, where I'm assuming you'll be living for the foreseeable future. So don't get pissed at me, mister, you owe us much more than supplies." Daryl began unpacking the car.

"Carl, go show them inside. Find them nice cells," he said in a threatening voice.

This freaked out Mark, but I saluted sarcastically, "Yes, sir," I picked up my backpack and marched away, leaving Glenn and Daryl smiling.


	9. Chapter 9

I was volunteered as a tour guide, apparently. I pointed at the garden, saying that we would look at that later. I led them into the prison, through a dark hallway and to where we stored the food. I left my backpack there to unpack later. I led them through the table area where we kept the drugs and made breakfast and where Judith and Beth played most days. There was no one here. I led them to C block, where we all slept.

"These are the dorms," I said to them, holding out my arms like a tour guide would. I call them dorms instead of cells sometimes to pretend like I'm at college. It's a fantasy I try to live out when I'm bored. Sometimes I pretend like my roommate is on the bunk above me reading or something. I wouldn't call him an imaginary friend since I haven't given him a name, but that's initially what he is.

I looked at the three. Mark looks confused and almost disgusted. Shawna looked interested. I looked at Jessie from the corner of my eye, trying not to make awkward eye contact again. I saw a slight smile form on her lips. I could feel my heart thumping.

"Mine is here, next to Glenn and Maggie's. Theirs is closest to the gate. Daryl sleeps up top," I walked forward, "Michonne also sleeps in a cell up top, this is Beth's," I said, directing them to her cell. We poked our heads in to see Beth holding William, and Judith playing with rocks on a blanket on the floor. Beth looked up, probably to yell at me again, but responded with a shocked look on her face. _People?_

"Uh…" was all she stuttered out, staring at the three. "Oh, Beth, this is Mark, Shawna and Jessie. They're new," I said, in my most tour-guide-ish voice I could manage, complete with arm gestures.

Beth stood up, still holding William. "He's not mine," she said, nodding to the baby in her arms. The three new people merely nodded, exchanging glances with each other.

"Well, I guess that completes our very short tour of your new living quarters, if you have any further questions, please contact the front desk," I finished. I knew that things would be awkward, and I really didn't want Beth to claw her fingernails into my upper arm again and hiss into my ear about something I was doing wrong, even if there was no one around to overhear her. I sped-walked to my dorm and sat on my bed. I looked at the tattered flag I had on the wall. Decrepit and worn in all the chaos. _You and me both._

Unfortunately, Mark came into my dorm. "So we each get a cell? Any one we want?" he asked. I just noticed his northern accent. "Yup. There's a bunch of empty cells. Take your pick."

Mark nodded and walked off. I hoped he would get a cell of the second floor so I wouldn't have to see him. I laid on my bed, opening the Aquaman comic from yesterday. Tomorrow, maybe today, we'll have to explain to them the rules and regulations of living here. Clearly they could hunt and kill walkers. We would have more people to stand guard. More people to go on runs – if we can trust them officially. But they are more mouths to feed.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. I sat up quickly to see Shawna and Jessie in my doorway. I smiled at them, standing up.

"So the cell next to… Beth? Beth's cell open? I saw a box in there, wasn't sure," asked Shawna. I nodded, "Should be," leading them out of my cell and two doors down to the one Shawna was talking about. I picked up the cardboard box of paper breathing masks. Lots of help that was now.

"All yours. You can have this box if you want it, too," I shrugged. She shook her head, smiling, "I'm good."

I shrugged, placing the box against the wall, "In case you change your mind," and walked back to my cell.

"Jessie, take the cell next to mine," Shawna suggested. I sat on my bed, listening. She was talking about the one next to mine, Jessie would be in between me and Shawna.

I didn't hear Jessie say anything, but heard her place her axe down on the metal table inside the cell next to mine. _Yes!_ I silently cheered. This didn't mean anything, but Jessie was sleeping in the room next door.

I laid there, the Aquaman comic open in front of my face, but I wasn't really reading it. I heard the shuffle of feet in my doorway. I peered up over my comic book. Jessie.

I stood up again. "Don't mind me," she said. The second thing I've heard her say. "I won't, neighbor," I answered back. She gave a small smile, hiding it immediately. I leaned against my cot, arms folded, holding the Aquaman comic under one arm. "Need anything?" I asked after a pause.

She just shrugged, "I was hoping that there might be some food and extra clothes or something I could put in my room?" Third thing I heard her say. A question, too.

I nodded, throwing the comic on my bed, "Yeah, this way," I said, pointing towards the main entry. I knew that Maggie kept some clothes that she found in a cabinet somewhere. I opened all of the cabinets in the main eating area. Of course, they were in the last cabinet I checked.

"Here ya go," I said, putting a stack of folded articles of clothing, mostly flannels, on the silver table. She nodded a thanks, sorting through them. I fought the temptation of watching her look through clothes and decided of getting her a piece of bread.

I went to the food pantry, finding my backpack again. Oh yeah, _you. _I would sort through it later. I grabbed a piece of bread and brought it back to the main hall. Jessie didn't have a shirt on when I walked in. True, she wasn't facing me, and she still had a bra on, and that she was merely putting on a new shirt, but still. There was a _girl _here. One _my _age and didn't act crazy.

I waiting for my blood to flow normally again before walking into the room more. "Here, bread," I said, trying not to stutter. She nodded thanks, now wearing a clean t-shirt with some band I've never heard of on it.

"Nice shirt," I said to her, hoping to spark some conversation. She looked down, nodding. "I have no idea who these people are," she said. I smiled, "Me neither." She smirked.

I put away the clothes, she kept her dirty tank top with her. I walked back to her cell with her. "Tomorrow, we'll show you the ropes of living here. We have people on watch and babysitting and going on runs, as well as farming and laundry. It's good that we have you guys, it's hard to run this place with only five people," I said, crossing my arms again. She laid her tank top on the table.

"Thanks… Carl. I really appreciate you saving me from that walker today," she said, her words becoming harder to hear the more she spoke. Her face became slightly redder. Introverted. Very introverted.

"No problem, Jessie, happy to do so anytime," I said, smiling. We stood there, looking at each other.

"Well, I'm going to get some sleep-"

"Yeah, me too," I said, right after her, scratching the back of my head. I can't fucking talk to people, much less cute girls that I just saved from walkers.

As I turned to go into my cell, I heard her say my name. I looked back and, with a smile she said, "Aquaman sucks." I smiled back at her, biting my lip to hold back a laugh as she ducked into her cell.

I lay on my cot, hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. For once, I wasn't thinking about the Apocalypse or the Old World or my dad's death. I was thinking about Jessie.


	10. Chapter 10

"Nice move, Carl," I heard Jessie laugh behind me. I turned my head slightly to look at her, angrily throwing her axe into the head of a walker. I just snickered. We were sent on a run with Michonne, but as usual, there was a group of walkers in the way. We can take care of them. I looked ahead of me – Michonne taking on most of the walkers with her sword. As usual.

"Watch this," I yelled to Jessie, swinging my machete over my head before spinning and slicing the head of a walker clean off at the neck. I ended in a crouched position, machete poised on one hand and the other hand pointing out. I heard Jessie laugh, then the sound of bones being crushed.

"You're so dramatic!" she yelled. I gave a small bow, then killed another walker. "I know!"

We started playing this game. We were showing off. It was fun. Probably not smart, but we did it anyway.

I could see the road we were supposed to be following, but we were stuck in this field still. No matter how many walkers the three of us killed, we were still stuck in this field, this familiar field.

It suddenly hit me as to where we were right now. I spun to tell Michonne, but she was no longer there. Where did she go? More walkers were coming at me.

I turned to find Jessie, just to see her being overtaken with walkers. My heart was racing, I reached for my gun as a I screamed , "NO!"

My gun. It wasn't there! I looked down. My holster wasn't there! Did I forget it?

I looked at her, only a machete in hand, walkers coming for us in every direction. I sliced off heads around me, but I wasn't quick enough. Their cold, dead hands were grabbing at me now. I looked for Jessie's eyes, to tell her I was sorry, that I couldn't protect her any longer, then I saw it. I saw Jessie killing walkers but she didn't see the one standing behind her. He bit into her shoulder and she screamed. I screamed. It was Rick. He was a walker and he just sentenced Jessie to death.

Time went slowly. _No, this isn't possible, I ran my machete through his skull. _I could feel bites in my skin, my insides being ripped out, but I only screamed about Jessie. She made eye contact with me as she went down, the walkers covering her. I'd never see her again. But as I was being pulled to the ground out of weakness, Rick, walker Rick, made eye contact with me. My heart stopped.

I woke up in my cot, stifling a scream. I was sweaty and shaking. _It was just a dream, Carl, just a dream. _That wasn't a dream. That was a nightmare. I slowed my breathing down to a normal pace, laying back down. I threw the covers off of me angrily. It was a different nightmare. For the first time, it was different. It had Jessie in it. _It seemed so real, I could feel it._ Tears welled up in my eyes. _No, I can't do this anymore. _

I got up out of my bed, strapping my holster around my waist. First I dream about my dad being killed over and over again, now Jessie? She was still alive, I couldn't watch her die, night after night. Watch Michonne die night after night. Occasionally relive Judith's birth and Mom's death. I couldn't do this anymore. I put on my hat. What was the point? Keep living in this hell only to be killed in the most painful way possible? It wasn't worth it anymore.

I stepped out of my cell. It was dark outside. There was moonlight coming in through the windows. I breathed in the smell of the prison for the last time – the mustiness and death. I walked in the lobby. If I went upstairs, I would make too much noise. _Goodbye Michonne and Daryl. _

I walked to Beth's cell. She was asleep, Judith on a mattress on the floor. _I'm sorry, Judith, I truly am._

I walked to Shawna's cell, nodding to her sleeping body, _Good luck._

I walked into Jessie's cell. I looked down at her sleeping face. Breathing quietly. Her arm hung over the bed, her hand open over her axe, sitting on the floor. She must've fallen asleep holding it. _I'm sorry, _I thought to her, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. _Good luck._

I went back into my cell, pulling my journal out from under my mattress and leaving it open to the first page on my desk. I would write a note, but I have no writing utensil. This journal should be enough. I passed Glenn and Maggie's cell. It was just Maggie and William asleep. Glenn must be on watch. I walked in and looked at the two of them sleeping. _Thank you for everything, Maggie. _I kissed her on the cheek as well.

I left C block's gate open when I left. Let them know I did this out of my own free will. I walked out of the prison and started for the courtyard. I would have to open the gate to get to the field. Luckily, I've already planned every step of this out, just in case. I had a small part of the gate cut. No one noticed it because it was at one end of the gate. I slinked through and walked to the graves. I had been digging my grave for a while now, both physically and mentally. No one noticed it because I was always out here farming. But, as I said, I had everything planned out.

How would I end my life? I could just go into the forest and walk into a group of walkers unarmed, but I wanted this to be painless. That also eliminated my machete. Gun to the head, it was. My dad's gun, of course.

Hopefully Glenn wouldn't notice me in the field. That was the one hitch. But I guessed that he was either asleep or just not paying attention to this side. I stood in front of the grave I had dug next to Rick's. I looked to the left and saw the countless number of graves I've had to dig before. Carol. Herschel. Andrea. Tyresse. Mom. Any friend I've ever had.

I sighed, turning so that my back faced the grave. I always thought that people who committed suicide were weak. I didn't think that anymore, hadn't for a while. They were getting out the easy way. They knew that they couldn't survive in this world, not like this. They were just being carried along.

They didn't need me. Daryl and Michonne tried to help, but I was just a third wheel. I wasn't nearly as good as them in this Apocalypse. I've had to be rescued countless times. I couldn't live with all these mental problems I was facing now. I wanted to see Mom. I wanted to see Dad. And everyone I ever killed, everyone I had ever known who had died. Everyone I had done wrong to, I wanted to say sorry.

A tear escaped my left eye as I pulled Dad's gun out the holster. Dad's holster. I turned off the safety, cocking it in my mouth, the barrel facing towards my brain. "Thank you," I whispered to no one. I wanted those to be my last words before leaving this world. A tear escaped my right eye as well before I pulled the trigger.


End file.
